


always remember when shadows fall

by minijhi



Category: EXO (Band)
Genre: Baekhyun-centric, Gen, Hugs, Hurt/Comfort, Mentions of Violence and Gore, Monster MV, Multi, OT9 - Freeform
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-06-25
Updated: 2016-06-25
Packaged: 2018-07-18 02:15:26
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 5,328
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/7295497
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/minijhi/pseuds/minijhi
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>
  <i>“Shut up.”  Kyungsoo complains.  “It was a lot more peaceful in prison.  I should never have let you break me out.” </i>
</p><p>Sleep, variations on a theme.  Monster MV based.</p>
            </blockquote>





	always remember when shadows fall

**Author's Note:**

> relatively new to kpop but so quickly spiralled into the exo black hole, please be kind. 
> 
> title from an old irish blessing, the whole line being 'may you always remember, when the shadows fall- you do not walk alone.'
> 
> all situations are fictional and i hope nothing bad will ever happen to these boys (yet my stories are blood, blood, tears). writing about real people is very stressful on my conscience.

_“You’re late.” Chanyeol says._

_“I had trouble picking an outfit.” Baekhyun says, grinning. “How are my favourite prisoners today?”_

 

-

 

The truck is pulled over at the side of a deserted highway, but Baekhyun still looks over his shoulder as he uncuffs their hands, ushering everyone off the side of the road and into a maze of overgrown bushes and weeds tall enough to be trees. The rush of crisp air is thrilling, leaves wet with dew and moisture from a previous rainfall. 

Jongin breathes it all in, his lungs singing at air that isn’t polluted by the smell of flames and gunpowder, oxygen that doesn’t come from a mask pulled over his face, oxygen and other things Jongin doesn't want to name.

A persistent branch follows Jongin a couple of paces before it snaps back, and someone lets out a surprised ‘oof’ behind him. He turns back to apologize, and instead gets a faceful of leaves.

“Ha.” Sehun says, and Jongin briefly considers swatting the branch back into Sehun’s face, when he catches sight of the way Sehun is smiling, eyes dark and wide with adrenalin, excitement. Jongin finds his lips curving automatically. 

“Hi Sehun.” he says.

Sehun answering smile is crooked but wide. “Hey, Jongin. It’s been awhile, huh.”

It really has been. But they’re out now.

The night is pitch black, but Jongin feels brighter than he has in a long time.

-

They emerge from the bushes into the backyard of an abandoned junkyard, old furniture and car skeletons spread across the compound like the left-behind toys of giants. Baekhyun pulls the door of the shop open, bells tinkling above his head.

By the time all nine of them have squeezed into the small shop, there’s hardly any space to move. Jongin finds himself perched on top of an oak chest of drawers. Kyungsoo’s rubbing at his bruised jaw absently in a stiff armchair beside Jongin, a low hanging chandelier obscuring half of his face. Jongin watches him awhile, until Kyungsoo meets his eyes and gives a small smile.

“Hey.” Baekhyun says, on his knees beneath a writing desk. “A little help?”

Instantly, Junmyeon and Chanyeol are under the desk with him, and Baekhyun lets out a startled noise. Moments later, the three of them emerge, nearly overturning the desk in the process, dragging a leather trunk. 

“Is this a body?” Chanyeol asks. “Because I’m not really in the mood to—”

Baekhyun unhooks the cuffs behind his ear and crouches beside the case so he can insert what Jongin now realizes, is a diamond-shaped key no bigger than a thumbnail. The trunk opens with a click, and Chanyeol falls silent, inhaling.

Jongin’s stomach lurches.

It’s food.

An assortment of bread and buns. Juice boxes. Packets of dried fruit. Cans of tuna. Crackers. Granola bars. Chocolate.

“Soju.” Jongdae says hoarsely with a laugh, the first he’s spoken all night. 

-

Jongin’s fingers are trembling as he tears open the wrapping of his second bun, hotel-sized butter packet balanced on one knee. The atmosphere is quiet but warm, Jongin feels overwhelmed with how happy he feels, surrounded by the faces of his team, food in his stomach. Most everyone’s too busy eating to talk, but with Baekhyun’s reassurance that they can eat as much as they want tonight— there’ll be food for breakfast tomorrow, as well as lunch and dinner, eventually their pace slows, and soft chatter fills the air.

None of it means much, there aren’t new updates from anyone who isn’t Baekhyun, but the conversation is welcome all the same. Jongin leans back against the wall, head narrowly missing a framed painting, letting the noise wash over him.

Baekhyun climbs up onto the chest of drawers beside Jongin and Jongin makes room for him as Baekhyun tucks himself into Jongin’s side.

“Hyung, you’re being quiet.” Jongin says. “Is everything okay?”

Baekhyun pets Jongin’s hair idly, even though Jongin’s much taller than him, even sitting down. Jongin shifts so Baekhyun can reach his head easier, his back protesting feebly at the position.

“Not used to having anyone to talk to, I guess.” Baekhyun says, resting his head against Jongin’s arm. “You’re sweet, Jonginnie. I missed you a lot.”

Baekhyun is warm, his touch soft and gentle against Jongin’s hair, and Jongin has forgotten what it’s like to have someone this close to him without flinching. “It’s been hard on you lately, hyung. Thank you for saving us.”

“It’s been hard on all of us.” Baekhyun corrects, watching as Junmyeon fusses over Jongdae, who’s contentedly munching on an apple with his broken arm now pulled up in a sling. “Thank you for putting up a good fight.”

Jongin lets Baekhyun feed him the remainder of his strawberry wafer, and it gets stuck on Jongin’s tongue. He spends the next few minutes drinking from his carton of apple juice, and Baekhyun seems content to rest his head against Jongin and play with his fingers, both of them settling back against the wall.

It’s not until five minutes later when Jongin realizes Baekhyun has completely stopped moving, only his steady breathing pulsing against Jongin’s body.

“Hyung?” Jongin tries, and across the room, Junmyeon catches Jongin’s eye.

Junmyeon’s smiling, and he holds a finger to his lips. Jongin angles his head downwards to look, and _oh._

Baekhyun’s fallen asleep against Jongin’s shoulder.

 -

Baekhyun sleeps for almost twenty minutes before anyone has the heart to wake him up, but in the end they know they need to move on.

Kyungsoo watches him, fast asleep against Jongin, the younger holding absolutely still, only his fingers smoothing across Baekhyun’s knee in a continuous motion. Minseok, Junmyeon, Chanyeol and Sehun are outside, starting their new getaway vehicle, but it also sounds like they are throwing a rave, with all the noise they are making. Kyungsoo winces as a horrifyingly loud sound greets his ears, like someone dropped an entire box of metal tools. 

“Ah, hyung, hyung, calm down.” Kyungsoo hears, and he jerks his head over to Jongin to find that the noise has roused Baekhyun, who has leaped off the chest of drawers onto his feet and is wide awake, rings twisted around his fingers into malicious weapons.

Jongin holds his hands up. “Hyung. It’s okay, we’re out. It was the others, out in the yard, but look, they’re okay.”

In the terse silence, Junmyeon’s scolding voice and Sehun’s distinct laughter can be heard. Chanyeol joins in seconds later, and Kyungsoo watches the way Baekhyun’s poised, listening carefully.

If someone had told Kyungsoo in the early days, that Byun Baekhyun would one day be sent as an undercover agent into the Exodus grounds, Kyungsoo would never have believed them. If they told Kyungsoo that he would be one of the prisoners at the camp, and that his life would be in Baekhyun’s hands, Kyungsoo might have quit the job right away.

Because the Byun Baekhyun that Kyungsoo knew was loud, playful, mischievous, and could not keep a secret to save his life.  Kyungsoo back then, wasn’t sure how Baekhyun was even still alive, much less that he could take care of someone else.

That was a long time ago.

Kyungsoo knows better now. Has known better, for a long time now. Baekhyun’s still noisy, talks too much and yells when he wants attention, but Kyungsoo has learned that it’s his presence that’s loud, has seen him walk into a room and have it fall silent, without even saying a word.

Baekhyun still sings terribly in the mornings, his voice high-pitched and too enthusiastic to hold a note, but Kyungsoo’s also seen the exact opposite: five hours of torture, teeth coated with blood, and so many broken bones that his body is but a puppet, Baekhyun’s voice is perfectly steady when he says “I have no idea where No.12 is.”

Kyungsoo, now, would trust Baekhyun with everything.

“Baekhyun.” He says, in the present. He rises from the armchair, knowing it’s dangerous to touch Baekhyun when he’s like this, but he also knows that touch is the best way to get Baekhyun back.

Kyungsoo curls his fingers around Baekhyun’s clenched fist.

A second passes, two. Baekhyun exhales.

Slim fingers curl back around Kyungsoo’s.

“Yah!” Baekhyun shouts, storming out the front door. “I have the ignition keys, what are you guys doing?”

Kyungsoo smiles.

-

Minseok offers to drive, and Yixing offers to sit up front with him so they can keep each other awake. Yixing’s nursing some kind of concussion, but no one can really tell if his behaviour is any different than usual. Chanyeol sits up front with them for the first two hours, and his and Yixing’s wailing singing fill the air, songs about lost love and rainy nights.

“I know I said this district is safe, but someone’s going to think they’re wild animals and hunt them for meat.” Baekhyun grumbles, propping his legs up in Junmyeon’s lap.

Junmyeon laughs, tickling Baekhyun’s ankle lightly.

The remaining six of them are in the back of the truck. Jongdae’s had one too many bottles of alcohol in attempt to dull the pain in his arm, and is passed out a corner, but everyone else is spread across a tangle of fishing nets and moonshine crates, trying to find a comfortable position to nap in.

Eventually, Kyungsoo folds himself against the back of a crate and falls asleep, arms and legs crossed. Jongin curls up beside him, Sehun draped across his legs. The older doesn’t stir.

It’s so cute Baekhyun wants to coo at them. He wishes he had his phone so he could take a picture.

Baekhyun nearly jumps out of his skin when he feels a soft touch at his side, a warm hand creeping beneath his jacket. Junmyeon catches him before he can flip over the side of the crate, lowering him to the floor gently.

“You should get that looked at.” Junmyeon says disapprovingly, when he pulls his hand back, dark blood crusted at the tips. “Minseok should be stopping for a break soon. Get Yixing to check you out.”

“Hn.” Baekhyun says noncommittally, laying back on the floor and staring up at Junmyeon. “Did you miss me, hyung? I didn’t see you as much as the others. Were you okay?”

Junmyeon leans over to tug on his earring. “Don’t change the subject!”

Baekhyun grins, pulling Junmyeon off the crate onto the ground beside him. Junmyeon’s strong enough to hold his own, even after four months of captivity, but he allows Baekhyun to manhandle him, joining Baekhyun in the bed of netting.

“Why do you have to ask, Baekhyun.  Don't you know already?” Junmyeon says, tucking Baekhyun against his shoulder.  Baekhyun makes a muffled, happy sound.

"Yeah."  Baekhyun hums, warm.  "I missed you too."

-

After they stop for a ten-minute break, Chanyeol volunteers to take over driving, but Minseok shrugs him off. It’s calming, driving on the road at night without another car or person in sight. He stretches out his muscles one last time before climbing back into the driver’s seat, listening as the others fill into the back, Junmyeon sleepily counting them off. The side door of the truck opens and Baekhyun climbs in.

“Do you mind if I join you guys?” Baekhyun asks, already settling into the passenger seat without invitation. Minseok looks at him out of the corner of his eye, and Baekhyun beams at him. There’s a dark bruise beneath one eye, incongruous with his bright expression, but Minseok knows he probably looks worse. There’s clotted blood on his shirt from about a week ago, and he feels filthy.

Him and Baekhyun, they used to be called puppy and kitten, something like that, Minseok thinks. Cute, fluffy house pets, not animals kept in cages, as if they were dangerous, violent, unstable.

Baekhyun’s anything but violent at the moment, trying to get Minseok’s attention by making faces at him. The door opens again and Chanyeol frowns when he sees Baekhyun already sitting in his seat, but he doesn’t say a word, instead retreats to the back of the truck with a wounded expression, nearly knocking over Yixing as he turns. Baekhyun looks surprised, clearly having expected to put up more of a fight, but he happily welcomes Yixing with a pleased grin.

Minseok shrugs his shoulders. It’ll probably a lot more quiet than having both Baekhyun and Chanyeol up front.

“So what did you want me for, Baekhyunnie?” Yixing asks, as the truck pulls back onto the road.

“What makes you think I wanted you for something?” Baekhyun asks. “Maybe I just wanted to sit up front with my two favourite hyungs.”

“No,” Yixing says patiently, “You obviously wanted me for something or you would’ve told Chanyeol to join you here, and you both would have kept the entire town awake all night.”

Baekhyun makes a face at him. “I can be quiet if I want to, hyung.”

“I don’t mind either way.” Yixing says, kind as ever. “I like you noisy too, if you want to be. But are you hurt, Baekhyun?”

“I—” Baekhyun breaks off, squirming. “Maybe? Just a little?”

Minseok catches Yixing’s worried frown in the rearview mirror, sparing a glance to Baekhyun, whose shoulders are tense as though he’s afraid he’s in trouble.

“Oh, Baekhyun.” Yixing says.

“It’s not a big deal.” Baekhyun says defensively, face scrunched up as he lies through his teeth, “It doesn’t even hurt. It’s been like this since Tuesday, and I just wanted to make sure it was healing okay.”

Yixing makes a quiet noise in the back of his throat but doesn’t say anything as he leans into Baekhyun, capturing the younger in between his thighs. Carefully, he pushes up Baekhyun’s shirt, hands hovering over Baekhyun’s bruised ribs, inspecting the deep gash across his stomach that’s been taped with thin strips of gauze.

“I’m sorry I didn’t come by your cells as much.” Baekhyun says suddenly. “You and Minseok-hyung and Junmyeon-hyung too. I— it was—” Baekhyun’s eyebrows crease with unhappiness.

“Shh.” Yixing says, fingers brushing Baekhyun’s ribs lightly, too gentle to cause Baekhyun any kind of pain, even with his torso lined in bruises like that. “It’s okay. We know what it was like in there.”

“I tried to, some nights, I wanted to sneak in, but—” Baekhyun swallows.

Minseok has seen firsthand that working for Exodus isn’t much safer than working against them. He’s watched soldiers get beaten up right outside the metal bars of his cage, their heads slamming so hard against the grills that there are permanent indents on the metal where blunt force has been applied repeatedly.

It made Minseok sick, and he hadn’t even liked them. He had tried not to think about the fact that Baekhyun was one of them, but truth be told, there wasn’t much else to think about when you were locked up in a small cage 24/7.

“Keep your eyes on the road.” Baekhyun says, but he sounds distant. Minseok turns back to the road, shifting his grip on the steering wheel.

With a free hand, he reaches out, carding Baekhyun’s hand into his own. Baekhyun tenses, and grips back tightly. Minseok keeps his eyes on the road, but makes sure Baekhyun knows how much he means it. “I’m glad you didn’t. You needed to behave. I don’t care if I never saw you, as long as it meant you were safe.”

“I know.” Baekhyun says, after awhile, still holding Minseok’s hand. “Junmyeon-hyung said the same thing. I wish I could’ve seen you guys more, though.”

“Baekhyun.” Yixing says, and this time Baekhyun winces when Yixing presses down onto a bruise. “Don’t do anything stupid. Trust us. We’re all okay, aren’t we?”

“I do trust you.” Baekhyun says. His voice is so quiet it’s barely audible, less Baekhyun, but makes him all the more _Baekhyun_ at the same time. Minseok feels it all the way to his bones.

“Exhale.” Yixing says.

Baekhyun lets out a shaky breath, _whoosh_.

“It’s okay, right?” Baekhyun asks, voice a touch too nonchalant. Yixing frowns, but in the end he nods, putting the gauze back in place. 

Yixing’s hand is still pressed warmly against Baekhyun’s bare skin. Baekhyun breathes, feeling Yixing’s hand rise and fall with his ribcage.

“Are you going to kiss me now?” Baekhyun asks. “Because if you’re not, putting your face this close to mine is false advertising and could give a person the wrong idea.”

Yixing swats Baekhyun, shoving him so hard he’s pushed up against Minseok.

Minseok laughs. 

“Not even a small kiss? The smallest kiss?” Baekhyun says hopefully.

Yixing snorts, but he’s soft, one of the softest of them all, and he pulls Baekhyun back into his lap and pecks him quickly on the cheek.

Baekhyun hums the rest of the ride, head resting in Yixing’s lap and his boots up against the dashboard.

Minseok’s struck by the familiarity of the sound, and through a disjointed fog of memories from the cell, it takes him awhile to place. Maybe Baekhyun hasn’t been by the cages all that much, but Minseok knows that song. He’d heard it some nights, the owner of the muffled voice mysteriously pacing the compound adjacent to theirs, sometimes coming close enough that Minseok could hear him humming. 

It gave Minseok an unparalleled sense of calm those nights, and those were always the quiet nights. Minseok always slept easier then, not knowing why. It makes sense, now.

“You’re really something huh, Baekhyunnie.” he says.

Baekhyun mumbles, only half awake. “You’re my two favourite hyungs. And Junmyeon-hyung too. Three favourite hyungs. And everyone else.  You're all my favourite people."

Minseok laughs, meeting Yixing’s fond gaze.

“You’re our favourite too, Baekhyunnie.” Yixing says.

-

When Sehun blinks awake, he has no idea where he is, or why. It’s not a new feeling, waking up unsettled and confused, but his body feels oddly relaxed, uncoiled. He lies still until the previous night slots into place, and exhales quietly, limbs loosening even further.

They’re in an abandoned factory now, having stopped shortly before midnight at another one of Baekhyun’s safehouses. The doors are rusted and there are huge meat hooks hanging from the ceiling, ominous shadows flickering across the patched tile floor. Baekhyun seemed comfortable enough with it, however, and within minutes, had found himself a nest of construction tarp and had curled up in it to go to sleep. It hadn’t taken everyone else much longer to follow suit. 

Sehun has no idea how long he’s been asleep. It feels like eternity, but then again, anything longer than thirty minutes feels like an eternal rest. The factory is silent, everyone else asleep, and Sehun closes his eyes again.

Then he hears it.

The tiniest whimper, like someone’s in pain. Sehun’s eyes immediately seek out Jongdae in the dark, because Jongdae’s sleep has been troubled all night, his arm hurting beyond what Yixing’s powers could help with. But Jongdae is on his back, one leg tangled around Kyungsoo, and the both of them seem to be soundly asleep.

There’s the quick intake of breath, a gasp of hurt that Sehun instantly recognizes (hates that he recognizes), and Sehun’s eyes scan the darkness again. Baekhyun’s curled into a small ball, one arm flung out, and shivers in his sleep, caught in the nightmare.

“Baekhyun-hyung.” Sehun whispers, finding room beside the sleeping boy so he can crouch down beside him. He’s careful to keep his voice down, not wanting to wake the others, but Baekhyun doesn’t stir either, and Sehun tries again.

“Hyung, wake up, you’re dreaming.”

Baekhyun lifts his hand just as Sehun reaches down to touch him, and their knuckles bump together with more force than Sehun intended. Everything else happens so quickly, Baekhyun wakes with a jolt, fingers crushing into Sehun’s and the next thing Sehun knows, there are clawed fingers scraping right across his face, the force sending him reeling even though he’s already jumped back, body reacting instinctively. Jongin, asleep by Baekhyun’s side like an adoring puppy, comes to life with the strength of a wolf, strong arms pulling Baekhyun back as he thrashes.

Blood drips onto Sehun’s lips.

“Baekhyun!” Junmyeon shouts, and Baekhyun’s eyes widen, dazed as he looks around, body jerking against Jongin and Yixing’s strong grips, though the movement becomes less pronounced, less violent, more terrified.

“Suho.” Baekhyun mumbles. “Junmyeon-hyung. Jonginnie. Lay.”

Baekhyun goes limp. Jongin catches him, arms wrapping around Baekhyun’s waist, Yixing bracketing his other side.

“Fuck. Fuck. I’m so sorry, Sehun.” Baekhyun’s looking at him, eyes dark with pain, the same expression that Baekhyun used to make when he would escort Sehun back to his cells after a long session, ushering Sehun into the five-by-nine room and locking the door behind him. Sehun would catch sight of Baekhyun watching him, from the small circular window, as Sehun curled up in a corner and tried to go to sleep.

Sehun can feel the fatigue resting heavily on his eyelids, even though he’s wide awake. Maybe it’s not tiredness, he wonders, it might also be crusted blood. Or dust. Mud.

“It’s okay.” Sehun says, voice scratchy. He licks the fresh blood off his lips, tipping his head slightly so Junmyeon can inspect the cut, but keeps his gaze on Baekhyun. He tries to smile, pulling at the cut on his lip, and ends up with more of a grimace. “Look, it’s not your fault, hyung.”

Sehun hates the broken expression on Baekhyun’s face— how can he not know, how important he is? How much Sehun appreciates everything he’s done for them?

Baekhyun’s trying to smile back, but Sehun can still read it on every inch of his body. He’s biting down on his lower lip so hard he looks like he’s going to draw blood, furious with himself, as if everything he’s done right in the past four months has come down to this moment, a once-in-a-lifetime audition that he’s failed by two seconds of panic.

“Hyung, please don’t.” Sehun says, and wraps his arms around the smaller, feeling Baekhyun trembling in his arms. “Hyung, it’s not your fault.”

Jongin is crowding their other side, hugging them both, Junmyeon, Yixing and Chanyeol hovering just a few steps back.

“I’m sorry, Sehunnie. I’m not like them, I swear I’m not—” Baekhyun sounds like he’s about to be sick, and Sehun’s heart crumples to pieces.

Sehun had asked for water once, delirious with pain and exhaustion. They were in the cells, shortly after the third month, and everything had hurt, he just wanted it all to end, anything that could make it better. He remembers holding onto Baekhyun’s wrist, tongue dry as he begged, _please, just a little, hyung, please_. 

It’s funny, for four months every day blended together so seamlessly that Sehun could barely tell each day from the next, but try as he might, he never forgot the look on Baekhyun’s face as he wrenched his wrist from Sehun’s grip, backing away.

Sehun knows, in this moment, that Baekhyun never forgot that day either.

“I know you’re not.” Sehun says, burying his face in Baekhyun’s hair, pulling him closer. “Are you crazy, hyung? I know you’re not like them, I’m sorry, I didn’t mean to ask, I know you couldn’t—" 

“I hurt you.” Baekhyun says, voice rising, almost hysterical. “I let them hurt you, I let them treat you like animals. Sometimes it was me, did you know? I was behind that glass, I pressed the buttons and I did those things, I watched and did nothing as you—” 

Baekhyun’s legs give out and Sehun goes down with him, Jongin crouching beside them, face pressed into Sehun’s shoulder, eyes wet with tears.

“Shh, it’s okay, hyung, please don’t cry, we don’t blame you at all, we love you,” Sehun murmurs helplessly into Baekhyun’s ear as the older keeps shaking, fingers curled into Sehun’s shirt. “Hyung, don’t cry.”

Baekhyun shakes his head, tucked beneath Sehun’s chin, but doesn’t stop the noiseless sobs either. Sehun holds him, running his fingers through Baekhyun’s hair, murmuring softly the same four lines again and again.

It takes several long minutes before Baekhyun stops crying, Sehun burying the older boy in a tight embrace the entire time.  At last, Baekhyun pushes away from Sehun’s hug, but his hands still cling to the fabric of Sehun’s shirt loosely. 

“You’re dripping blood on me.” Baekhyun mumbles.  His voice is wobbly but intact, and the trembling has mostly subsided.  Sehun brushes the bangs out of Baekhyun’s eyes.

“And you’ve got tears all over my shirt.” Sehun points out. “You too, Jongin.”

Jongin gives him a watery glare.

As they pick themselves off the floor, Baekhyun timidly asks for another hug.

“Silly, wonderful, hyung.” Sehun says, fluffing Baekhyun’s hair, lifting him off the ground with the force of the hug.

-

Jongdae’s dozing lightly, pain from his arm keeping him awake, when he feels someone pulling at the makeshift blanket beside him, and for the first few seconds, he tenses, thinking _no, please, no,_ but moments later, the touch against his side is gentle, not rough, and the fight leaves Jongdae’s body in a single breath.

“Get your own blanket.” Jongdae grumbles blearily, squinting to make out the figure in the darkness. His arm throbs when he tries to sit up, though, so he lets whoever it is climb into the window ledge beside him, cuddling up on his good side. 

One of the streetlights outside the window flickers on again, casting light against the grimy factory glass. It’s not a lot, but it’s enough for the silhouette of the figure to come into view, warm yellow light throwing a halo around the outline of his head. 

Funny, Jongdae thinks. Angels didn’t usually wear lip piercings. 

A laugh rings out, delighted, and Jongdae squints again, expression disgruntled.

“I’m not an angel.” The voice says.

“I know, a real angel wouldn’t come here and wake me up when I’m trying to sleep.” Jongdae says, trying to settle back down again, but the stranger’s legs are all over the place. At least he doesn’t have wings: it would be hard to sleep next to someone who had wings. 

“Yes, Jongdae.” The voice says. “It would be hard to sleep next to someone who had wings. Aren’t you happy you have me instead?” 

Jongdae flails as the imposter curls into him, limbs wrapping around his waist. Jongdae kicks him, and the stranger yelps.

“Good grief, Baekhyun, leave him alone. Go crash with Chanyeol tonight.”

“Chanyeol’s with Junmyeon-hyung.” The voice whines, into Jongdae’s ear, and a cheek is pressed against Jongdae’s. “But J—Jongdae likes me, see?”

He’s kind of soft, Jongdae thinks. Warm, too. A lot nicer than the piece of tarp he’s been using as a blanket. Maybe this bed-crashing-blanket-stealing-imposter isn’t so unwanted after all. What did the other one call him again? Baekhyun? That’s a strange name for an angel. But he’s a very strange angel, Jongdae thinks. Soft and warm and comfortable and maybe a little bit pretty, but strange.

“Oh for God’s sake.” the second voice mutters.

Baekhyun laughs again. It doesn’t sound as bad as it did the first time. 

“You’re welcome, you sweet talker, Jongdae. Go to sleep.” Baekhyun says, patting his shoulder lightly, and within seconds, Jongdae is fast asleep.

- 

The sun begins to rise a little past five in the morning, colour sweeping across the sky so gradually that even though Baekhyun’s wide awake, it still takes him at least fifteen minutes to realize that the cracks in the ceiling are white on the edges from natural sunlight instead of tungsten. He spends the next ten minutes watching Jongin’s hair bleach to white beneath the filter of the rising sun, and finally pushes himself up into a sitting position.

It’s far too early to be awake, but Baekhyun’s not used to undisturbed sleep. Quietly, he untangles himself from Jongdae and Yixing, the latter who seems to have swapped places with Kyungsoo sometime in the night.  Baekhyun, surprisingly, cannot tell when Yixing joined them, but seeing as Jongdae’s stopped moving about in his sleep, and the ache is missing from Baekhyun’s ribs, he can easily guess why.

He makes his way across the pile of sleeping bodies. The garage door is propped up slightly, and he slips beneath it, out into the open. 

“Hey.” Chanyeol says, and Baekhyun startles. 

“I didn’t know anyone was out here.” Baekhyun says, hesitating. It’s awkward, for the bare fraction of a second, even though it shouldn’t be. It’s _Chanyeol._

“I’ve been up for awhile. It was a pretty great sunrise, you just missed it.” Chanyeol’s sitting on the outside ledge of one of the windows, long legs still touching the ground, and he waves Baekhyun over. Baekhyun pushes himself up beside the red-haired boy.

“Why are you awake?” Baekhyun asks. “You barely slept at all during the drive.”

Chanyeol shrugs. “I’m tired, but I don’t know. I was thinking. It’s been so long since I’ve been out here, it seemed a shame to spend time sleeping.”

“It’s not like you’re going back there again.” Baekhyun points out. “I wouldn’t— you know. Let that happen.”

Chanyeol’s brow creases, and Baekhyun looks away. However spectacular the sunrise had been, there’s no trace of it now. The sky has gone completely white, and there’s a single, dead tree about a half-mile away, the only object visible on the horizon. 

“I know.” Chanyeol says quietly. “I’m not worried about that, Baekhyun.”

“You’ve been avoiding me all night.” Baekhyun says.

“I most certainly have not.” Chanyeol says, indignant. “I’m just trying to make up my mind if I want to kiss you or punch you, before I get close enough to do either.”

Baekhyun’s head snaps up to meet Chanyeol’s eyes. 

“When they said you were going to break us out, I didn’t think they meant you were going to do it _from the inside_.” Chanyeol says. “Damnit, Baek. Do you know how dangerous—”

Baekhyun puts a finger to his lips.

“Do I get to pick?” Baekhyun interrupts. “Because I’ve been punched a lot more than I’ve been kissed in the past four months, and I’m really hoping to get off to a better start.”

Chanyeol laughs at him, punches him in the shoulder, softening the blow just before it comes into contact with Baekhyun’s skin. It feels, just a little bit, like Chanyeol’s saying ‘I love you.’ 

“Maybe another time.” Baekhyun says.

He takes in a long breath.

There’s nothing but time, now.

  

-

  

They sneak back in an hour later, Chanyeol’s fingers tight around Baekhyun’s.

“Stay with me.” Chanyeol whispers, pulling Baekhyun towards the pile where Minseok, Junmyeon and Kyungsoo are still sleeping. There’s a space barely enough for two people, but Baekhyun thinks it’ll be okay.

“Hey.” Chanyeol whispers, when they’re both lying side by side. “I’m really happy you’re here, Baekhyunnie.”

“I’ll take that kiss now, then.” Baekhyun whispers back.

“How do you know I’m not going to punch you again.” Chanyeol retorts, but he’s smiling. He opens his mouth to say something else, but whatever it is gets rudely cut off as Kyungsoo rolls onto his stomach, props onto his elbows, and punches Chanyeol in the leg, hard.

“Shut up.” Kyungsoo complains. “It was a lot more peaceful in prison. I should never have let you break me out.”

Baekhyun grins.

“I love you too, Kyungsoooo.”

“Please,” Kyungsoo says. “Just go to sleep. We’ll still be here tomorrow, you know?”

 _Baekhyun knows_ , and the thought makes him so happy that he launches at Kyungsoo like an affectionate octopus, arms smacking into Kyungsoo’s face and rousing Minseok, who gives them a look and pulls his ragged blanket over his head. Kyungsoo indulges him for little more than a second before smushing Baekhyun’s face into the potato sack Chanyeol’s been using as a pillow, hand pressed down against Baekhyun’s cheek. Baekhyun tries to lick Kyungsoo’s wrist.

“Stay down.” Kyungsoo orders. “Good Baekhyun.”

Baekhyun laughs, chews on Kyungsoo’s dangling sleeve and lets Chanyeol pull him to safety.

 

 

 

**Author's Note:**

> every time baekhyun asks for a kiss someone always ends up being hit xD


End file.
